


The Nutcracker War: A VLD Christmas Special

by White_Lynx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is told some Earth lore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe- The Nutcracker fusion, F/M, Holiday Special, I DID THIS FOR FUN, I can't believe that's not a tag, M/M, Post-War, and because I can, but there is now, haters are gonna hate, i saw season8 and i don't care, then has a weird dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Lynx/pseuds/White_Lynx
Summary: While visiting the Holts for Christmas dinner, Allura is told about an ancient Earth tradition of keeping a nutcracker on your mantle to ward off evil. Like a great deal about Earth, it's agreed to be just a superstition that's a stubborn holdover from ye olde times.Until she has a pretty weird dream about said nutcracker... and realizes that Earth is its own special kind of weird.Allurance/Sheith if you squintPost Season 8/War Au with some holiday elements. I wrote this for fun and because despite everything, S8 was still pretty cool.





	The Nutcracker War: A VLD Christmas Special

Exactly the same as most everything that could be attributed to Earth, Allura wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at. Neither did Coran or Romelle, having only heard of the annual winter holiday from the Paladins when Pidge reminded her friends where they were in the Terran calendar. Now enjoying days of peace and thus ample chance to learn about human customs, the Altean princess wasn’t sure about Christmas sometimes.

Sure, the land was mostly covered in snow, leading to more than one day out in the pale fluff making ‘angels’, men out of compacted snow, even a fort before something knocked them over. And more than once, a battle royal that left them all cold, wet but smiling like idiots once the last person fell down. Some of the decorations made sense now that on Earth, they had access to the real things the Paladins had always talked about, from knickknacks, to music, garland and finally the tree itself.

Yet it was one decoration in particular that baffled Allura, that being a tall wooden figure dressed in what looked like ancient war garb. The style in which it was painted didn’t appear quite human and the design of its body was a bit thick and stiff compared to most everything else in the house. Stranger still, it appeared to have thick black tufts of what had to simulate hair attached to the back of its head just behind its tall hat and just under its mouth. The display of pure white teeth was maybe the worst part, aside from the eyes. There were several of them around the Holt residence but the one atop the mantle had caught Allura’s eye, probably because it was the biggest one and standing at nearly a foot. The others were just a few inches, six at best but they were not dressed as soldiers or were colored so boldly.

“It’s called a nutcracker.”

Aqua eyes glanced to look at Lance, who had come to stand by her and the fireplace mantle, looking handsome as ever in the blue sweater his mother had knitted. Allura herself was in a creamy-white one she’d also been gifted, grateful to have it for the cool air trying to leak in through the walls. Yet, the sun-kissed human’s use of the word go her frowning. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s not made of metal, nor can you put it in a drawer.”

Lance chuckled, his smile bright as always. “True but these guys have been around for over five hundred years. This one and his buddies are just for show, though. A nutcracker’s just for tiny snacks, this guy is to bring the room together.”

_So he’s not going to make fun of me. Good,_ Allura mused, as a good deal of Earth culture and terms were still difficult to pair with the right things. Usually leading to Lance cackling before apologizing and trying to explain what he meant all over again. She would pout and keep trying, but Allura was positive that nothing he did was meant to be truly mean as she did her best to learn about her new home. “And it’s synonymous with this holiday of yours.”

“Yeah, the Yuletide season’s always gained one weird tradition after another over the centuries so no one’s really that bothered if you observe one but not a few others.” he told her while draping an arm around her shoulder, blue eyes looking away to regard the wooden thing staring blankly back at them. “It’s said the first nutcracker was a toy from a craftsman to his son when he had to leave on a journey and his child wouldn’t be alone or scared. These things are like protection totems, which is why they’re always made out as soldiers.”

Allura turned her own eyes back to the doll, frowning. “It is rather… grim.”

“That’s the point! These guys are supposed to protect the home they’re in, like good luck charms even if they’re mostly for decoration nowadays.” Lance told her in a familiar and humored tone, seeming to regard the painted soldier with fondness. “They’ve sparked a book or two, even a famous ballet with some pretty ingenious music.”

“So it’s fine that it’s just… staring. With its teeth bared?”

“Pretty much all of ‘em look like that. We don’t have to put any up in our place, if you don’t want to.”

The Altean blinked, thrown by the suggestion they not use what was clearly a common decoration for their own home. “No, I--!”

“Relax, my princess.” the dark-haired human snickered, pressing a chaste kiss to her own dark cheek as way of placating her. His smirk aided her further in relaxing again. “Nutcrackers aren’t a Latino tradition anyway. I’m willing to put up a tree and some tinsel like everyone else, but give some fresh hot tamales and we’re gold.”

“If you’re sure.”

Lance nodded, pleased with having done a good job in helping her understand. “Positive! Pidge and her family’s ancestors hail from Europe where they’ve been at it for almost a thousand years. Hell, it was almost canceled a time or two by the Scrooges of the world.” he groused for a moment just to wave away the Altean’s look of confusion with his free hand. “I’ll tell you later, but they didn’t like how rowdy everyone got, which included getting drunk and therefore unruly. All because their customs and religion at the time was all grim and boring.”

“Yet this holiday persisted.” she stated, finding rather impressed with how even after all that, such a bright and colorful celebration was still being held.

Her companion nodded sagely, almost happy to relay the tale to her. “Naturally, and through compelling protest! Made easier by the separation of church and state, so pretty much everyone can eat and drink as much as they can stand while the lingering few go to church like they always do. Rarely hungry but sober. The choirs are nice though, they always pull out all the stops for the holiday service.”

_Ah yes, humans still have a variety of religious beliefs that they follow._ Allura recalled much easier since such a thing had once been an integral part of humanity. It’d probably been something Alteans and other races adhered to before the true rise of science, making her curious about her counterpart’s past experiences. “Does that mean you used to go?”

“As a kid, when mi mama dressed me up in an itchy suit and dragged us through the snow to sit there for hours without a break and poorly sing songs we didn’t always remember.” Lance told her in a blase tone, as if the whole thing wasn’t truly important, even when his smile didn’t fade one bit. “I think she drags Sylvio and Nadia because they’re the only ones she can fool into going with her these days.”

“That’s a shame. Doesn’t she miss your presence?”

“Sure but usually work or something else keeps us at home anyway.” Lance paused to glance around him warily, as if looking for the pair of children before turning back, his grin having turned truly mischievous. “Plus taking out the kids means we have a better chance of hiding their presents.”

Allura giggled then, honestly amused by Lance’s bit of drama. Both she and Coran had been told very quickly that the legend of Santa was primarily for children, even if explaining it to a pair of alien adults did make the tale far creepier than what was told to said children. So long as such youths believed their yearly presents truly did appear through magic well before realizing it was their parents all along, no one seemed to mind continuing to spread the legend around. No doubt to keep their troublesome offspring from tearing their own houses apart to find things meant to be gifted a few weeks later. They’d only held Christmas at least twice on the Castle before they’d been caught in the rift, so to see the holiday in its proper setting was curious and enlightening to her.

“Guys, dinner’s on!” Colleen was calling from a few rooms over, loud and cheerful enough to draw the attention of all.

“Great!” Lance remarked with open glee, offering his arm to the Altean lady with a smirk. “Shall we?”

Said woman chuckled, looping her arm with his. “Indeed.”

They had to trail behind Hunk and Shay, who was endlessly fascinated with the kind of structure they were in and its contents, much to everyone’s amusement. Much had changed, including the chance to give her people the Balmerans a better way of life post war and occupation for untold centuries. Shay had been in equally nice places before, and yet never failed to marvel at it all, more curious than discomforted by everything. After a brief dobosh, they were in the dining room just for Allura’s counterpart to let out a long whistle.

“Wow, nice spread Mrs. H!” Lance crowed, blue eyes wide at seeing the arrangement of foods already on the table, most of the seats already occupied as well.

Allura let another giggle escape at her husband’s enthusiasm, knowing that other than Hunk and sometimes Pidge, Lance loved food. Especially human food, which she was coming to enjoy along with them. “Yes, it looks marvelous, Colleen.”

The faded blonde woman smiled as she set down a huge tray of cut meat, steaming and filling the air with a curious aroma the Altean knew was a good thing. “Thanks, all of you. Now sit down before it can get cold!”

Not needing to be told twice, the multitude of people settled down into their chairs, Kolivan somehow not breaking his when he did. The master spy didn’t even appear ill at ease being in such a lively place, forgoing his fork and knife for his claws for certain things he put on his plate. Quite accustomed to such habits, no one was irked or tried to stop him, mostly because they were too busy chatting between bites. The one comment that drew the most attention was Coran’s rather jovial remark. “I must say, this Yu-lay-tard is full of all sorts of wonders! Our past efforts to recreate this on the Castle must’ve been so poor and unacceptable!”

To only slight confusion to the aliens, the humans seated among them snickered or merely smiled. Shiro was more than happy to explain things from his side of the table. “It’s ‘Yuletide’ and we were fine with all the things we could scrounge up back then, Coran. Try not to sweat it too much, since we were just happy to celebrate at all.”

Allura stared at her fellow Paladin, fascinated by this notion while Coran had the sense to merely return Shiro’s smile, gladly listening as the man went on. “Christmas is an adaptation of the old pagan holiday Yule, in which ancient tribes would enjoy their hearty foods and drinks around a burning log in the middle of winter during the solstice. This has mostly changed as the era passed, many gods fell away for the one and now here, we don’t really celebrate the gods at all. Just each other, our family, friends and the wonderful food and atmosphere we create by being together even if it’s just for a few days.”

Offering a low chuckle from the head of the table where he sat, Sam Holt was looking to his former protege with a broad grin. “And that should be the toast of the evening, since I can’t even hope to top that, Shiro.”

“Sorry, Sam. My bad.” Shiro muttered, smirking at Keith who gave him a small shove on the shoulder from his seat next to the taller man. Reassurance he’d done nothing wrong.

“I don’t care.” the aging commander laughing, raising his glass with a grin. “To family!”

“To family!” the table chorused, gladly calling out the toast. Including Kolivan, who’d been mostly sitting in silence in his chair the entire time, looking grim as ever. At least Krolia was smiling and that was due to her being with her son and probably knowing full well about the holiday they were celebrating.

By the time dinner was over, a grand majority of the food gone and everyone migrating back into the living room, even Kolivan seemed to loosen up when Pidge brought out a Monsters and Mana board of all things into the open. Coran all but squealed happily as instantly proclaiming himself the game-master as the character tablet was passed around, including the group vote that Shiro had to be ‘anything that isn’t a paladin’. The man’s pout was rather silly yet adorable, at least until Keith muttered something in his ear that raised his spirits visibly. Not that strange as the pair had been at each other’s side for years, despite Keith’s work with the Blades taking him all over the place.

The night became filled with laughter and all kinds of excited banter as the game slowly progressed from one stage to the next, Colleen happy to make a few rounds with cocoa mugs and small bowls of pudding. Defeating Coran’s acid-spitting dragon to end the session left everyone in high spirits when collecting their things for the journey home, having enough sense to help clean up the Holt residence before they did. Lance insisted that Allura get in their car first to get warm while the teen darted around some more, eventually slipping into the driver’s seat with a brightly wrapped box in his arm. They both took a moment to wave goodbye to the rest of their friends, honking at each other as each vehicle took different turns int eh road once out of the Holt driveway.

With the radio playing a holiday song faintly as the volume was turned down, Allura waited until they were at least on a straight stretch of road before addressing her driver. “Tonight was wonderful. Seeing your holiday in its proper glory has been very illuminating and enjoyable to share.”

Sun-kissed face lit up by the console of the car, Lance’s smile was easy to see in the comfortable dark of the vehicle’s front seats. “I’m glad, though I’m sure once you explain them, we can try for some Altean holidays too.”

The Altean chuckled, knowing for a fact that her people had never observed anything so unusual as Christmas even before her lifetime. “Sadly, there is no winter on Altea.”

“Oh yeah, you guys have constant spring and summer with the occasional fire rock shower to spice things up.” the Latino muttered with the beginnings of a frown that was easily wiped away by a lazy shrug, keeping his blue eyes focused on the road. “That’s okay, we can still work it out. No way is my lovely wife going to feel left out of some amazing holiday fun.”

“Speaking of fun, what is this box they gave us?”

Lance blinked, not looking away to see that Allura had managed to get ahold of the box Colleen had given them before they’d left. It was almost a foot tall and several inches around, was covered in red, green and white striped paper of varying widths, a design that was a bit dizzying to look at for long. At least for Allura as she held it in her hands, wary of crushing what felt like cardboard with her alien hands. “Oh, it’s our present. I already gave them something from us so they must’ve gotten us something too.” he told her, flashing a smile for a brief tick as taking a coming turn consumed the teen’s focus. “Usually this kind of thing has to wait until tomorrow but I’m curious. Open it?”

“Alright.” the princess agreed, finding the package was lovely but the curiosity that came with receiving such a gift was too great to ignore. Not when Lance had given her permission to rip at the seams where tape had been pressed to hold the lovely paper in place, earning a chuckle when she stuck the glossy white bow she salvaged onto Lance’s coat sleeve.

The paper was soon tossed into the back to be cleaned up later, the lamp overhead allowing them both to see the box was a thick but high-quality cardboard, colored a deep burgundy with gold imprints. Lance kept his gaze dutifully on the road while Allura took off the lid just to stare at what she saw wrapped in the thin tissue paper. “What is it?”

“It’s one of those nutcracker men.” she said, using careful hands to lift it out for them both to see properly, mostly curious on why they’d been given such a thing at all. “Did they think we’d enjoy it?”

“I guess. He’s not half-bad lookin’, to be honest.” her husband remarked absently when able to glance away to consider the tall figurine.

Considering the nutcracker for a few ticks, Allura decided that Lance’s comment wasn’t that far off: the soldier was a regal thing on a thin block painted a faded gold, bringing out the black of his boots and the almost cadmium blue of his trousers and jacket, fastenings painted in bright yellow just to have gold cord tied and glued to its left shoulder. Unlike the one she’d seen on display at the house, this soldier held a saber, a thin band of leather glued to its waist where a wooden scabbard hung without fear of breaking off. Its face and hands were painted a darker shade than the one they’d seen earlier and its dark hair looked fresh and clean.

“We can stash him on a shelf until we decide what to do with him, okay? I know the other ones kinda freaked you out.”

“A little, and you can’t blame me.” the Altean agreed, placing the nutcracker gingerly back into its cushioned home in order to replace the paper and the lid. “Still, I had fun tonight.”

“I’m glad to hear that, babe.” her companion returned, sounding pleased. “Good thing we don’t have to leave for another ten hours. We have a few miles to go, you can sleep if you want.”

“Yes, my Paladin.”

Lance snickered at her use of the term, pleased with the almost playful obedience the sometimes willful princess liked to display as a tease. She knows that her husband is perfectly aware how their friendship cut through all the usual deference, the Latino gladly treating Allura no differently than any other friend in his life, if with a bit more attention due to his love. His offering to drive them all the way back to their hotel without a break is just one more selfless and gentlemanly thing the teen has done since well before they’d decided to marry. It leaves them in a good mood all the way to the hotel where they have a room for the night, ample chance to sleep before getting on a shuttle back to their farm.

Their house is as small and cozy as when they left it for the weekend in order to attend the Holt dinner, the living room still colorfully decorated after Lance had come stumbling in with a box of lights just to ask her to get the tree out of the car. With her Altean strength, the task had been easy, the day-long task of decorating the musky tree and the room itself proving a delight with music playing and Lance babbling on and on about everything. Simply glad to be involved Allura had done her share of the work and silently reveled in seeing her husband so obviously happy to have their first Christmas. Water and grain in the right buckets in the barn said their neighbor had come by as promised to attend their few animals while they were gone, dinner plates already made in the fridge offering themselves as a quick meal.

Washed, dried and dressed for bed not long after, and too tired for any other fooling around, they’re soon under their bed-sheets with barely a word. So close and comfortable, there’s really no need, the pair sharing a chaste kiss and a smile before falling still. Allura herself isn’t very sure when she fell asleep but knew when waking up to an odd scratching in the floor, it was close to midnight given the absolute darkness her eyes cut through once focused enough to see. Another faint shuffle of something downstairs got her sitting up a bit, suddenly alert.

It sounded off again, faint but present enough that she laid a hand on her bed mate’s shoulder, calling quietly. “Lance?” Her grip was gentle but hopefully enough to rouse the thin boy, hoping she was being heard. “Did you hear that?”

Relaxed against his pillow, Lance only mumbled softly, a few words rising from his throat as sleep held on strongly. “Gimme the tamales…”

Allura scowled at her bed partner and knew it was useless. She would probably never understand why it was that Lance was impossible to wake once he began dreaming about food but that was just how he was. Nothing short of a missile exploding was going to wake him at this point, even if the shuffling downstairs baffled her. They’d bought the house with money given to them by the Garrison, mostly for the solitude it brought them in spite of their fame. What few neighbors they had knew who they were and were happy to leave them alone, not about to bother people who were famous veterans seeking a peaceful retirement.

Their Earth-grown juniberries were famous as well, if for making sweets and tea for people to enjoy when not using the bright purple flowers for display. They were a local favorite and brought in just the right amount of revenue to give them a steady means of paying the bills, outside of royalties from the military and reruns of the Voltron show. Since it was winter and too cold for them to grow, the fields outside had been pure, unbroken white when she’d looked. Now without the moon to make the crystallized water glow, the land outside was engulfed in pure darkness. It was odd to see it without any stars but Allura was getting used to that. A vision made complete by the cloud cover, no longer bothered that only ice or rain would ever come down, unlike on Altea.

Shivering a little when slipping out of the covers, the almost liquid silk of her nightgown gave the faintest shimmer thanks to the electric alarm clock’s glowing face. Also accustomed to Terran writing, she could read it was quite literally the middle of the night and by her husband’s custom, Christmas day. Her mice had been excited to play around with the ornaments on the tree all week, helping Lance decorate and making him laugh when dancing to the music. Putting her slippers on and grabbing up her robe from across the bed’s corner where she’d last placed it, the Altean woman quietly shuffled out of the room as another scuffling noise drew her on. The rest of the house was dark and quiet, something that was hardly unusual given where they were.

One or two of the windows she spied through the other doors of the second floor were just as dark as the rest of the home, as was the staircase when she drew near to grip the banister. In the middle of her own house, Allura hesitated slightly, wary. She’d been fooled once or twice before by mad illusions of the dead who used their once trusted faces to lead her straight toward danger. Yet her father’s AI had been gone for years and Lotor had been a brief vision of madness that she never wished to see again. However, something was in her house and she intended to know what.

Thankfully the stairs didn’t creak when moving to step down toward the foyer, the house not so old that the wood protested any weight on it. While there was no waking Lance at the moment, there was no true answer of exactly what would finally get the human up and running to find her. Still, anxiety filled the Altean woman on just who was in the house and why, having already been informed that Santa Claus and spirit of the holiday was not real. All their gifts were already under the tree. Which meant there was no need for anyone to be there, unless they were some kind of thief. A brief flash places her bayard in her hand, never mind that she’s not even in her armor or anywhere near her Lion, unsure if calling on Blue would be a wise idea.

Stepping cautiously off the final step and the two paces through the front hall toward the open threshold to the living room, Allura dares tilt her head just enough to get one eye past the thick border of wood. All the lights in the living room are off, the curtains drawn and what little natural light from outside barely cuts through the dark. Her senses tell her there’s no one there, just for her heart to almost leap out of her mouth when another faint scuffle somewhere behind the couch jolt with a stifled cry. And it wasn’t her mice either, they were upstairs on her dresser, fast asleep. The only other sound aside from her breathing seemed to be that of a clock up on a shelf just behind the wall, near the top of the bookcase.

Its rather audible clicking of gears and ticking of the second hand felt deafening to Allura when daring to leave her hiding place in order to step into the room proper, sword at the ready for whatever she might face. A step or three to the left and she’s looking under the tiny table just behind the couch, puzzled at seeing nothing. Yet something very real had drawn her out of bed, and she was going to uncover what it was. Skirting around the two pieces of furniture and with her eyes on the floor, Allura wasn’t so naive to think the old house didn’t have some kind of quirk for winter weather. She’d heard the construct of wood, plaster and stone creak and groan throughout the year so unless it was an Earth mouse or something, finding out if it was just the house settling would be reason enough to head back upstairs.

She takes a step toward the tree and finds she has to pause. Not only had the shuffling not sounded off again but strangely, the clock had stopped ticking. From what she knew about the old thing, it was sufficiently wound still and had over two hundred hours left before one of them needed to turn its delicate key. Allura turns, just to find the scenery behind her has changed, for instead of looking at the room as it’d been and the shelf some feet behind her, she sees the wooden floorboards in all their deep chestnut glory. Stunned, she looks to the side just to see the wall is also huge, as is the back of the couch along with the table she’d inspected not a full dobosh ago.

_Impossible!_ Allura thinks, for there’s no other way to explain what’s happening. She hasn’t had any strange visions in over a year, nor does Earth have significant enough amounts of quintessence to warrant anything strange to happen. Least of all something like this, her new size unnerving in every way.

Running steps that shouldn’t exist get her spinning, wary of who or what might be there with her, aqua orbs darting to find anything. Heart rushing now and fearing she was going mad, Allura once again cautiously stepped toward the source around the edge of the couch. For some reason, in case whatever it was happened to be sentient, her voice didn’t sound as calm as it usually did when daring to call out into the dark. “Hello?”

Why she would ever hope to get an answer, Allura isn’t sure, only that the silence is growing unbearable. To speak to someone would definitely be nicer than wandering around alone in her new state of being, the mystery behind it best solved if she wanted to keep Lance form worrying about where she’d gone. Her new size wasn’t natural and she needed to change back before morning, if it didn’t wear off on its own. It was stranger still to look up and see the tree, still bright green and covered in motionless ornaments, the lights dead since the plug wasn’t in the wall and keeping it on was thought to be a fire hazard. Even from such an angle it looks pretty, yet something Allura can’t pause to appreciate if she wanted to find out what was happening to her.

Skittering behind her is the most warning she gets when spinning ot see a large and dark form rushing toward her, making Allura cry out in shock of such a thing. It’s fast for its size and the Altean barely manages to leap out of its way as what looks like claws slice through the air where she’d been. Hopping back onto steady feet and holding out her sword in a defensive stance, the princess has to hold back the mounting fear at seeing the creature was in fact a rat. An Earth rat to be precise, large even when roughly the same size and by its grey pelt, lacking in good health as it rears on its hind legs. The rat’s dark eyes seemed to flash with unusual intent, claws ready and mouth open to show yellowing teeth, its hiss loud and almost feral.

A few slashes of her blade get the large beast to keep its distance before Allura is forced to retreat with the arrival of a second rat, making her curse under her breath. Her nightgown gave her plenty of room for long strides as she ran, but hopefully allowing her to run fast enough to at least get the upper hand again. A thought that was quickly lost when rounding the couch corner properly and almost tripped over her slippers at what she saw.

The open floor was a mess of activity, the once empty floor between the coffee table and the stone ledge for the fireplace completely covered in rats. Huge, grey, unclean looking animals of the obviously unsavory sort, roiling and swift as they moved. Their opponents, who matched them fairly well in terms of agility and size, were shocking an army of soldiers. Human by their appearance but some of their motions and the gloss on their faces and attire gave away the fact of how they weren’t exactly made of flesh and bone, but metal. They seemed to be of even number with the foul rats, their uniforms looking to be of another era that Allura can’t exactly place, holding sabers and rifles with deadly efficiency.

Hissing behind her helps Allura remember that she’s still being chased, crying out as one of the rats from earlier nearly cutting several marks into her back for being so lax. Having few other options, the Altean is soon running again, jumping when the rifles go off with a short roll of cracking thunder followed by puffs of smoke. Other soldiers are using their long weapons to bash at the snarling beasts, the rifles bearing what looked like short blades for stabbing when brute force isn’t enough. It’s a mess and the air already stinks of smoke and blood, Allura gladly using the chaos to slip between the chaos of quarreling figures and beasts as she runs. Hopefully it would distract the rats chasing her until she could find a way to undo whatever magic had been cast on her, preferably before morning or worse.

It seems to work since Allura finds that she makes it through somehow unscathed, even going so far as slashing at a rat or two for good measure, the pair chasing her likely caught up with whoever had decided to deal with them. Grateful that her new size isn’t so small that she can’t mount the smallest of the presents like they’re short walls, Allura gladly climbs up the nearest one with almost no consideration for the paper. How can she, when her life might well still be in danger? Looking back, it doesn’t appear that either side has noticed or is interested in chasing her anymore, allowing the Altean a chance to breathe.

One as fleeting as the half moment before a new shadow drew her to look around, aqua eyes wide as saucers at seeing the ugliest rat yet: taller than the rest and appearing misshapen, the rat was a lighter grey than its smaller fellows but many times more revolting, its arms still fairly small compared to the rest of its body. The worst was its head, or heads, rather. Allura could only imagine exactly how such a thing had ever come to be with more than one head like that, each of the five mouths full of sharp, yellow teeth that gnashed almost mindlessly. It was big enough to be a Robeast maybe, which meant against such a thing her sword might be useless. Several beady eyes of sick red seem to focus on her, making the giant creature begin to tower over her with a foul hiss.

Until the closest of its mouths was bashed by a large fist, one made of wood and even as a blur, was strangely familiar. Allura could only watch as the giant rat thing visibly recoiled from being struck, forgetting all about her in favor of her savior. Seeing the nutcracker they’d brought home of all things, towering over her and moving as if truly alive left Allura in a daze. His wooden sword had somehow become metal, shimmering in the dark as it was swung at the rat creature with deadly purpose.

_No, this is impossible!_ She thought as she watched the duel between wooden man and foul beast unfolded before her eyes, unsure if any of it was a dream. Wozblay, for all she knew, a part of her had finally snapped to reveal that she’d effectively gone insane!

The rat beast’s howl was harsh on her ears, just as its claws seemed to be on the equally large nutcracker taking one too many blows, making him stagger. She couldn’t quite see the floor from where she was standing atop a present box but Allura knew that if allowed to keep beating on the wooden figurine, there was a strong chance the rat thing would win. Having no idea why such a thing even mattered to her, and not about to toss her bayard, Allura was well aware that she didn’t have Lance’s shooting skills. She was good but not to the point where she’d do great damage. Without thinking, the Altean hopped on one foot to get her slipper off, offering a silent prayer that her plan worked.

Somehow, in strange defiance of gravity and maybe even reality, the thin item of cotton and thin rubber spun through the air thanks to Allura’s powerful strength. It didn’t fly very high but that wasn’t the point, not when the tiny thing struck the rat beast in the side near its arm. The object was pathetically small compared to its target, but her effort made the mutated looking creature recoil again with a thundering yowl. A noise cut short by the nutcracker’s saber rushing forward to catch it in the torso.

With a terrible and sad roar, the rat thing was falling and so was the nutcracker, both falling to the side as if knocked over into the mass of rats and soldiers. Allura could only watch as the grey things squealed and began to run in all directions, the toy soldiers shooting and slashing at any nearby as they did. Before long, the rats were completely gone as if they’d not been there at all, leaving only the soldiers. Where the nutcracker went she wasn’t sure, the situation far too odd for her to not at least try and spot it from the mass of uniforms starting to mill about as they gathered themselves.

“Good lady!” a man cries out from below, the man who’d once been the nutcracker, she realizes. They’re not so far away that Allura can’t make him out, her jaw slack as she regards him just to find she knows the stranger’s face.

“LANCE?!” she can’t help but shriek, mind spinning with all the madness she just endured and why her husband had finally chosen that moment to appear. Too much was going on that she knew wasn’t possible, yet she’d just seen the man turn from wood to flesh in a strange shift of materials that had looked painful. For whatever reason, the thin Latino was moving as if he’d been his usual self the entire time.

“Kind, beautiful lady! You have saved us!” Lance is speaking in a voice that’s his but not quite, his ability to climb up the slanted present box like it’s a hill a bit impressive to see. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that they’re so small or that he’s wearing clothes she’s never seen, using words he’s only ever used during bouts of teasing. No sooner is he beside her does Lance grab her in a strong hug and a brief twirl, laughing heartily. Allura is given no chance to speak or even question what’s going on before he’s let her go and turned away, the saber he was still holding soon in the air, addressing the eagerly watching crowd. “The foul King has fallen, and the day is ours! The war is over!”

The mass of soldiers cheered at Lance’s cry, the almost deafening noise forcing Allura to scowl at the human with growing irritation until she realized too many things were different: he was Lance, or at least an image of him. His hair was a shade too dark, his skin maybe a faint bit lighter and his eyes. Stars, his eyes were still a brilliant shade of blue and yet in the few years she’d come to know human genetics, never had she seen such a bright cerulean. It wasn’t natural and given they were the size of shoes or in this case, toys, nothing of what was going on had to be in any way normal.

A hand on hers drew Allura out of her thoughts, blinking to find those same eyes were looking at her again with gratitude and open adoration the likes she’s only seen a few times before. To have this man who looked far too much like her husband stare at her that way caused the Altean’s face to start burning, shocked when he brought her thin hand to his lips for a chaste kiss that she knew was a polite human gesture. In this case, there was clearly much heavier emotions aside from respect involved.

“Illustrious lady, I must thank you. My curse is broken and in my freedom, I may reclaim my birthright as ruler over my lands. Come, and be the guest of honor at the celebration.”

Still fairly thrown by everything, Allura feels her face darken slightly at the gesture but shakes herself with a frown. “What? No, I need to--!”

The Lance look-alike cut her off with a grin, as if her unease didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be calm, enchanting lady. I will show you the way.”

“Lance, this is ridiculous! What is going on?!” she demanded hotly, irked over it all.

Except the Lance-like man wasn’t paying attention, his grip on her kind but firm as he looped their arms together to leave the present box they’d been standing on. How the paper wasn’t in some way tarnished by his boots, she had no idea, only that at some point in the long walk through the still cheering and dancing soldiers she’d gotten her slipper back. The soldier who’d given it to her had acted like it was a sacred relic, his face openly happy and quickly lost as he disappeared into the crowd. None of the joyous soldiers stopped them either, leaving them a lane to use, Allura once again shocked to find something different at the end.

Having seen all kinds of winter imagery before, the alien woman knew right away that a sleigh so ornate and small had not been anywhere in the living room until that moment. Even more curious was how the horse tied to the front didn’t look like a real, living horse. In fact, the elegant thing looked to be made of deeply stained and polished wood, positively calm with its situation and waiting for the reins to be grasped by a driver. The Lance imposter was smiling kindly when guiding Allura to the seat, allowing her to gather her robe and nightdress fabric in order to step in. The chance to sit down helped her get her slipper back on, just to be surprised again by a thick fur blanket draped over her lap, her ethereal companion settling into the cushions right next to her as if what they were about to do was the most normal thing in the whole world.

His gloved hands had the lines of what almost looked to be rope, maybe string, in his grip by the time Allura tried to speak with him again. “Really, why won’t you answer me? What is going on? Where are we going?”

“To my kingdom, for too long it’s been without me to be its ruler.” he told her, not the least moved by her stern voice. “Keep the blanket, my lady. Where I live can be rather chilly.”

Allura had to stare in open bafflement as the man shook the reins with a click of his tongue, a signal to the wooden horse to begin walking. Below them, the sleighs tracks almost didn’t make a sound over the soldiers still whooping and doing jigs in their glee, a few having the mind to wave as they passed once spotting the sleigh and its trek across the floor. Not-Lance smirked and waved back, Allura doing the same if reluctantly in case whatever was going on turned out to be a danger to her person after all. It was probably best not to bring attention to herself if her escort was so intent on taking her someplace even stranger than where they were.

“Um, Lance? We’re headed for a wall.” she told him in a stern tone, anything to not sound like her fear is going to overtake her annoyance. This doesn’t last long when Allura’s voice comes away as shrill when she tries again at seeing her statement gets no reaction. “Lance, turn this infernal thing at once or you’ll kill us all!”

Next to her, the Lance-like man is chuckling, his grin like that of the Red Paladin when he was in a bold mood. “Fear not! With my body restored, so is the magic I bear, a key! Onward, my noble friend!”

Ahead of them, the horse gave a loud chuff as if it understood what the former nutcracker said, its gait reaching a quick trot that was slowly turning into a proper run. Horrified at what was happening, Allura found she was frozen in the seat with no way of leaping out, at least not without hurting herself. She had no idea what kind of strange magic was in play but to risk herself too soon had a great chance of trapping her there. Next to her, the Nutcracker wasn’t the least bit concerned as he did nothing to change their course, confident as if they weren’t in any danger at all.

For a brief tick, Allura thought she was seeing things when she caught a glimpse of the first dot of white that flew by her face. It was small, bright against the dark wood of the floor and the paper on the wall passing them by, yet she saw it all the same. Blinking in shock, the Altean found her eyes widening at seeing another, then several more. Within a few ticks, they were in a flurry much like one of the first she’d ever seen when Lance had been driving their car to the stores in town for pre-holiday decorations and gifts. Her husband had been determined to get through the pale-white mess in order to get there for the sales, muttering curses when they’d had to park at the furthest edge of the parking lot but still spent the next few hours shopping like they were on a hunt.

They’d only gotten in one fight, technically between Lance and some hissing woman intent on buying the same toy, the last on the shelf. As she recalled, Allura knew it was now neatly wrapped and in Sarah’s house to be opened in the morning by her daughter, the former Paladin having been dead-set on getting the item for his niece like any good uncle. But there was no windshield on the sleigh and Allura had to blink and raise a hand to guard her eyes from the tiny specks of ice floating by, a cold wind blowing right at her when there shouldn’t be either bit of weather indoors.

She knew nothing truly normal was happening when the flurry dissipated to reveal a new scene for her, the walls and floor of the living room gone, the wind whistling to replace the once distance jubilations of the toy army. They were in a forest, the tall pines varying in make from what looked like neatly stitched fabric to well-shaped plastic. More than a few looked like they were made of cookie with icing and candy, creations of such intricacy and size that definitely weren’t truly possible. The whole place was covered in snow, a few pieces of the frozen ice landing on her face near her mouth just to wipe them away. Yet the way they smelled caught Allura’s attention, making her look down at the melting ice just to see it wasn’t melting into water but some kind of slush that felt stick and smelled far sweeter than water should. A quick taste told her why.

_Sugar snowflakes?!_ Such a phenomenon didn’t make sense and from she knew, didn’t occur anywhere in nature, least of all on Earth.

“Look yonder, and behold, dear lady!” the Lance-like man crowed happily over the whistling of the wind, his gaze focused on something up and above the trees making her forget about the strange snow in order to look too.

Allura was sure her eyes would pop out, stunned at the vision. “Is… is that…?”

What she saw was certainly worthy of ogling like a fool, as it rose above everything in a way that didn’t seem possible. Even from so far away with so much of the finer details just barely visible, Allura knew a castle made out of gingerbread when she saw it. Its roof was flanked by several majestic if rather spindly-looking spires, the barely visible green tiling awash with more of the snow that was falling everywhere. The sky behind it was a mesmerizing blend of purples, oranges and reds hinted with yellow to show it was twilight wherever they were, the fading sunlight casting itself to further enchant the massive structure with color. Having seen a few of Earth’s last surviving castles, Allura could tell this one was made to impress and to last if it was built so high and with what looked like a great variety of decorative candies.

“My home. Long have I awaited to see it again.” her strange companion declared with a grateful tone, shouting over the wind to the steed pulling them along. “Hurry, Octavian! Good news is yours to deliver, my friend!”

The wooden sculpture horse let out a proud-sounding neigh as it leaped a little in the fluff, as if gleeful to hear the command, increasing its run a step more. How it could run so quickly there was no telling, seeing as how Allura was fairly sure that as a technically non-living thing, didn’t have the same limits as a real horse. She’d been told that real horses enjoyed running, as it was one of their strengths, living as they did on open land. This one seemed to be having the time of its life, galloping at such high speeds down the icy road, its hearty response making the Nutcracker laugh.

Allura had to stare, simply too thrown by the whole thing to really do or say anything. She was clearly not in her own house anymore and had no idea how to get away, let alone if she even could at this point. Still, the blanket proved the advantage the Nutcracker didn’t care one bit that she didn’t share its protection with him, face exposed and rosy from the cold. He looked so happy and all but cried out with the wind howling by, enjoying the thrill of their sleigh’s almost impossible speed. The whole thing was impossible and yet, Allura knew if she was seeing, hearing, feeling and tasting things, then it was either truly happening or a very convincing illusion the likes her long-lost Castle wasn’t capable of.

Doboshes passed before the road changed just enough to create a larger break in the greatly varying trees for her to see a wall, light beige and frosty with the snow growing as large as the castle towering with impossible majesty over everything. It wasn’t long before she noticed there was a small opening in the wall, a gate of thin, dark bars that seemed to be as ornate as just about everything else given how they were curled in an almost regal manner. She can barely see them properly even when they open in anticipation of the horse-driven sleigh, both the gates and their flanking walls towering blurs as they rush through. The open land just beyond the wall is clearly better maintained, intentionally arranged as pale blue shrubs and tall pink trees line the road, Allura’s already keen mind noting they were all made of cotton candy.

Well before them, the castle adorned with the sugar snow and colorful bits of candy adorning its deep brown walls of gingerbread is looking increasingly huge, far bigger than any structure made by human hands. It reminded her a little of Zarkon’s flagship, if stationary and clearly meant to appear wondrous in every way. Everything about it defied physics and what candy should be capable of, having seen a few impressive confectionary bits of architecture with the return of human industry. Knowing there were humans who became so intently skilled on something that lasted no longer than a week had amazed her, but this made those tiny buildings look like mere child’s play.

The road is curving ahead into a circle, the space darker with what appears to be some form of turf in defiance of all the snow everywhere and leading straight to the front steps which do look like they’re meant for people their size to mount. The steps are clear of snow, making it obvious they too are made of sturdy looking candy, some kind of bright yellow hard candy with deep oranges streaking through like some form of marble. The wall and balustrade look to be more gingerbread reinforced with candy cane, the pale white and deep red arranged for purpose and style. To Allura’s mounting shock, the staircase isn’t empty either for there’s already people there standing on every other step in crisp looking attire that Lance had once shown her that servants of the rich and noble generally wore. Even from a distance they too appeared to be made of candy, shiny and waxy without looking too disgusting or terribly unreal.

In the very center was a man dressed in vibrant colors of orange, purple with cream and bits of yellow, his face known to Allura even in her strange situation. “Coran!?”

Even his mustache and hair looked to be made of some kind of painted metal, the odd key in his back visible when the Coran-double did a twirl on the dark turf when marching closer to the sleigh. “My Prince, and a guest! My, how we rejoice and your return, Your Highness!”

Next to her, the Prince was chuckling warmly at the double’s greeting, already standing to abandon the reins and his seat to hop down. “The honor is truly mine, old friend. I return, now and forever!”

“Oh, jelly beans!” Coran’s painted eyes sparkled jovially as he spun on the turf, some kind of large chip from what Allura could see as she moved to step out of the sleigh as well. He was quick to turn away at a quick run back toward the steps, loudly ushering the now chattering servants made of some kind of caramel and white-toned candy back inside. “Hurry, hurry! A welcoming feast is already being prepared for you and thine lady, dear Prince!”

Feeling the fur blanket become draped over her shoulders got Allura to look away from the people vanishing beyond the giant doors of what looked like chocolate bars, returning her attention to that of the Prince. The fact he didn’t name himself Lance or anything else was still suspect, but the man seemed amused with her confusion when gently taking her arm again. “Just a little further, brave and noble lady.”

“Lance, what is going on? Why do you ignore my questions?!” she wanted to know, and was demanding as much, only to feel irked when her escort answered with a laugh.

“Because it’s a surprise, my treasure.”

Given no chance to get back into the sleigh and maybe find her way back, namely because the wooden horse Octavian was already pulling it away, Allura resorted to frowning at the Lance imposter again. If he was bothered, he certainly didn’t show it when leading them up the steps and through the doors as if they were going to lunch. The inside was just as impressive as the outside, brightly lit with sconces made out of what looked like hard candy flowers and mints, the floor made up of differing tiles of several colors. It looked a great deal like the marble candy making up the steps, smooth and shiny that not even their shoes could ruin as they walked, each stride loud in the odd quiet.

Ahead of them was another set of chocolate bar doors not as tall but still impressive, the mould design intricate in absolute defiance of what might be structurally unsound in reality. It wasn’t hard to see the Coran-double was speaking animatedly with a few of the servants gathered in front of it, a pair of guards dressed in what looked like foil wrapper tunics holding thin spears of red licorice in hand standing tall and grim nearby. The Coran-double quickly waved for the servants to scamper down a smaller hallway just as Allura and the Prince got closer just to draw himself up, giving the guards flanking the door a firm nod.

Neither said anything as they moved in stiff yet practiced motions to grasp the tiny handles sticking out of the chocolate, the space just beyond turning out to be far brighter than Allura had been expecting to the point she had to shut her eyes while the Coran-double shouted. “The Prince has returned! All hail the Prince!”

Allura jumped at the equally loud spike in noise from beyond the doors, blinking her vision clear just to stare in open awe: the room was a massive hall with a dais for a throne at the furthest end but between that and the doors, it was filled with people. All of them were in what appeared to be fancy dresses and petticoats, just as fine as the rest of the castle seemed to be, clapping and hollering in plain joy at seeing the Prince step where they could see him. No one seemed to care that Allura walked with him, as their arms were still linked and in her mind at this point, she was simply along for the very insane ride.

It took all of her control not to gape like a fool once they reached the slightly raised dais where the throne sat, a thin woman with a huge skirt that glittered with sugar seated in the tall cookie throne fashioned with icing who also looked terribly familiar. To see Romelle of all people in a strange dress, with an unnaturally pale face and seeming to glimmer with sugar crystals on her skin and hair was a shock. Even more was the almost knowing smile she wore when taking in the pair coming to stand before her, her complexion only broken up by what looked like faint dusting of pink on her cheeks, blue eyes brighter than was ever normal. The thin rod she held in her hands appeared to be made from sugar as well, her dress covered in dots of color to accent the cream background without looking remotely ugly.

Even her voice, as she spoke once the noise died down and they could hear her, was low and calm. “My Lord, we are pleased to see you hale and hearty once again. With your return, my task as your regent is ended.” the Romelle look-alike stated in a deferent tone, rising with unusual grace from the chair to curtsy once a step or two to the side. “Ascend, and take thy rightful place.”

Yet again, Allura had no real choice when the Prince smiled and moved to complete their journey, turning them so they could face the room properly. This didn’t stop him from offering the Romelle look-alike a deep bow, smiling as the woman did too. “You have my gratitude, forevermore, kind fairy. You have kept my home safe for many a year, may we both keep our hard-won peace for many more.” he turned to face the crowded room, the numerous faces all watching with smiles as bright as his. “My subjects! Tonight, WE DANCE!”

The room burst with noise at his call, as if he’d told them the best news in the world and was perfect reason for instant jubilation. Along the left wall, a part of the wall was spinning to reveal a toy man working a crank, slowly to reveal what looked like an entire orchestra just like one Allura had seen on television once. To the right, another panel was spinning to unveil what looked like a massive buffet, a giant made out of chocolate towering over everyone. Seeing both sides display their hidden secrets so readily delighted the candy nobles further, the Romelle look-alike happily leaping down to join the rush to clear the floor.

It wasn’t long before she was in the middle of the floor, flanked by several dozen other men and women in slighter attire than her own, all of them clearly Alteans as sugar-crafted beings. When the music started, found herself fascinated by the grace and coordination they displayed in what was clearly an impromptu event. She was only distracted by a servant appearing behind her with a smaller chair like the throne, prodding her to sit down just to realize the Prince folded himself with her. The smile he wore appeared happy as ever, delighted at the performance unfolding before them.

It was with deep bows to overwhelming applause that the Romelle and her sugar Alteans finished their dance just to leap and twirl off the floor. A new song started, allowing the dozens of people to pair up and fill the open space with their intricate patterns and strange fabrics, falling into line with practically no other signal except the music itself. No sooner were they doing this that Allura was being dragged out of her seat by a small set of cold hands on her arm, her cry stifled by the music. She didn’t have a hold on the Prince anymore and a glance back showed that he failed to see her leave, the small figure pulling her behind a nearby curtain insistent in taking her away. Allura found her Altean strength was no use against this tiny person for some reason, though glad when they let go once behind the curtain.

“Pretty dress for a pretty lady, pretty dress!” a musical voice crowed as the same hands yanked at her robe with enough force to make Allura cry out as she fell backwards. The plush chair she fell in gave a swift person a brief chance to snatch her slippers before the Altean could protest, surprised again when they returned to put high heels on her feet. Her ability to see them and their almost bright yellow hair was hindered by the lack of proper lighting in the smaller room but to be pulled up again by two of the small candy servants just to have her robe all but ripped off made her cry out again.

“Now, really--!” her complaint was silenced by fabric, thick but light being shoved over her head, making her squawk and struggle against the new restraint. Hands were pulling it down and soon Allura’s head was free, shaking her pale hair loose as the strands began to pull. Trying to adjust her arms and look down at herself, the flowing and sparkling fabric left Allura in a slight daze at how pale and clean it looked. Wozblay, it looked a great deal like her old dress from her days as a mere princess instead of a Paladin, the edges lined with fur instead of thin bands of gold.

Small hands were already after her hair, restraining most of it into a braid with gentle touches while one of the servants played with the edge of her new skirt, as if trying to make sure it was straight. The tick the unseen servant was no longer fiddling with her hair did she see all three of them, shocking copies of yet another familiar person, each one no different than their companion. From how they were staring, her appearance dazzled them.

“Pretty!” they stated in a chorus, making Allura fidget.

“Oh, um, thank you… Pidge?” she tried, unsure how else to address the three very eerie toy people. Once again not waiting for her to say or do anything else, they were pushing her back out of the room again and onto the dais where she’d been. No one seemed to notice that she’d left or was back in new clothes, but Allura was certainly dazed when the three metallic girls chose that moment to wave before she could try to even question them.

The tinker-toy girls cackled in tinny voices that somehow didn’t sound horrible as they quickly slipped away before Allura could stop even one, vanishing behind another curtain to parts unknown just like the rest of the huge building. No sooner was the young trio gone did the Prince’s gloved hand somehow appear at her side, grasping her hand again as if it were a delicate thing. Allura spun, once again dazzled by his unreal blue eyes and startling likeness to Lance, his face soft with adoration.

“You look beautiful, dear lady.” he told her, even though his gaze never seemed to leave her face for a tick. “Shall I have this dance?”

Stiff and horrified in spite of her new attire. Allura knew that going out so openly into public in this strange place was the perfect place for everyone to know she didn’t belong. Did that honestly not concern this man at all?! “B-but I don’t know these dances! I barely know what’s going on!”

To her dismay, the Prince was already pulling her along, stepping backwards through the thin line of candy people and onto the bright floor. “Do not worry, for this place will always welcome you. Allow me to lead you, and you will see you fret over nothing.”

With a gentle tug, she was suddenly against him, their joined hands in the air and his other arm firmly on her waist. Even more shocking was how her legs were moving seemingly on their own, almost in perfect time with the starting steps of the dance and its other participants. No one was bothered that the Prince and his strange guest were involved in the long line of graceful couples, the former nutcracker’s laugh drawing her to look at him again. “See? It’s easy!”

Allura dared to let her mouth twitch into the faintest of smiles, still puzzled on how any of what she was experiencing was possible yet at the same time, realized that it reminded her a bit of the balls her parents used to hold. Her mother Melenor was far more adept with social graces than her father, who was far more interested in his alchemy experiments than to hold dinners with his own fellow nobility. As their only child and too young to be involved in her father’s work, Allura had stood by her mother’s side through every event Alfor barely managed or simply failed to attend. Knowing their king very well, very few were insulted when only their Queen and Princess humored them for several varga.

There was a swell in the music and Allura suddenly found herself being lifted up and spun, allowing her skirts to billow a little, the move surprising her enough to actually make her laugh. Before her, the Prince bore a happy grin as he snickered along with her before the swell came again, giving him cause to repeat the act. Around her, the Altean saw the other ladies were being lifted up by their partners, much their echoing amusement. She ultimately had to stare when spotting something well away from all the moving colors and patterns were two men in opposing suits at the edge of the floor. It was enough that she had to crane her head some to see them when not blocked by the other dancers and the Prince.

Seeing Keith and Shiro in petticoats was very interesting, as was noticing that Keith was dressed in deep browns and blacks while Shiro was almost purely white save his right hand was completely black. Even from so far away, it was obvious to Allura that the pair were made of chocolate, and from how they were acting didn’t care they were the only two men dancing together. Keith, despite having an oily and clearly well-carved face, had a soft look in his bright purple eyes while Shiro looked positively smitten. No sooner had Allura gotten a good look at them did they disappear, leaving her to wonder as the Prince twirled them to a different corner. It was dizzying to try and keep track of all the different people made of candy, wood or metal as for whatever reason the Prince guiding her along was the only one made of flesh.

All around, the music didn’t seem ready to end and no one was eager to stop and sit down either. The Prince was holding her close and patient with each step, smirking and laughing kindly each time she made a mistake but never once admonishing her for them. Allura didn’t feel tired for some reason and yet she felt that her legs should at least be hurting from all the moving around, even with the Prince making them glide with supernatural energy. It didn’t make any sense and yet, Allura found she was enjoying herself at last, despite the last of her fears nagging at the back of her mind. At some point, the music seemed to change from the classical that had been playing all night to being made by instruments she knew hailed from a different era in human history. It didn’t match the world around her and the nagging feeling that something was off got stronger.

Her laughter and smiles dying away, Allura realized that the flakes of snow had returned in a growing twirl of wind that had no right being in such a huge room. None of the windows appeared to be open and no one around them looked distressed at seeing the growing spiral of white coming into existence in such a strange place. In front of her, the Prince’s face has yet again taken on the fond look from earlier, but she can see now just how clear his pain is. The words to ask what might be wrong become stuck in her through, the Altean momentarily horrified at knowing she can’t speak for some reason.

Holding her close and smiling as Lance used to during the war, the Prince opened his mouth with a voice that wasn’t his. “Wake up.”

“What?” Allura managed to get out, growing increasingly scared as the white flakes began to overtake everything, even the Prince with his soft jacket under her hands.

“Wake up!” he shouted as if suddenly far away.

All she saw was white.

\----

Aqua orbs slid open to blink slowly at recognizing the faded blue pillowcase of soft cotton of her bed--her and Lance’s bed--as the alarm clock on the nightstand behind her blasted an old rock and roll song. It was a Christmas song playing on Lance’s radio clock, the singer’s deep voice in tune with his version of ‘Jingle Bells’. Blinking again, Allura realized she was in their bedroom, under the sheets. She was even in the same position she’d chosen before drifting off to sleep the first time.

Practically as if she’d never left.

Behind her, the mattress was moving as Lance sat up with his usual energy, his tone full of humor at how she had yet to move as well. “Allura, it’s time to get up!” he told her with a laugh, his mirth finally making the Altean turn over slowly to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Lance’s back was turned but the curtain’s were bright with sunshine having cut through the night’s dark shroud at some point. His hand was even sliding off his clock’s controls, the music having shut off not half a tick earlier. Allura tried not to stare when he finally turned with his familiar blue eyes shining, his grin light as he chuckled. “Man, we probably need to lay off some of that sugar we had if you’re this sleepy the next day.”

Still a bit lost between the borders of dreams and reality, Allura could probably be easily forgiven for sounding very intelligent when answering the comment. “W-what?”

Lance offered her a bright grin, swinging his legs back over the side of the bed to roll closer and place a warm kiss on her cheek next to her mark. A common act from him and by the sensations, proved that everything was indeed real. “It’s Christmas, baby.” he told her with a loving tone, his regard turning curious. “How does coffee sound?”

“Sounds lovely.” the Altean responded with a bit more confidence, not wanting to scare her husband into thinking that anything was wrong. It was their first holiday as a couple and Lance had been excited for over a week anticipating its arrival. Her strange dream was probably just a very odd coincidence.

“Great! The timer should’ve gone off but I’ll check, okay?”

“Yes.” she said, managing to sound cheered at the idea of having something warm to drink so early and at least offer her own smile. “Happy Christmas, Lance.”

“Merry Christmas, Allura.” the Latino teenager intoned with a bit more warmth than was probably necessary as he kissed her lightly on the lips, another common action and welcome display of affection. No sooner had he done so was Lance bouncing off the bed and on his feet, kicking his slippers on with a shiver as he marched for the door. “Man, time to turn on the heat.”

In her new solitude, Allura was able to get her thoughts together as she too finally sat up to view the room. Nothing looked or felt different, she was still in her nightgown and her robe was still draped over her corner of the bed. Wozblay, even their matching slippers were still on the floor like always, fluffy and cool when slipping out of the sheets to put them on. Overhead, the sound of the heater turning on signaled the house would soon be warmer meant neither of them would suffer the cool air for long, Lance’s familiar footsteps echoing through the house from the ground floor.

Shaking herself back into the moment, the pale-haired Altean set about her usual routine of waking, including the use of their small bathroom just feet away. Lance had stated that they would be staying in all day, so there was no need to get out of their pajamas. So Allura did her business, righted her dress and grabbed her robe on her way out the door, intent on enjoying the day. Her journey down the stairs was lit by faded gold sunlight and familiar as ever, a glance to her left into the living room showing the room still neatly decorated for the holiday was no different than it had been last night.

Her gaze was drawn to the mantle, baffled on why she was surprised to see the nutcracker was indeed still there. As if he’d never moved. As if all she’d seen and done hadn’t at all. The lights on the tree were on, a sign that Lance had been through to plug the thing in and shuffling to her right said he was in the kitchen. Even some of the curtains were open, helping display the early morning light and the pristine blanket of snow literally stretching for untold yards. The sight didn’t bother her, having seen very similar visions before, though Allura was glad the one she saw now wasn’t that disturbing either.

Turning away all the same, fiddling with her robe and seeing the sash was tied securely as she stepped into the kitchen, she was again met by the familiar sight of Lance in the fridge. In the corner, the coffee maker was spitting as it mixed hot water and dry grounds into its almost black brew in the carafe, the stove on with a griddle on a burner. From the hiss, the teen’s first choice was to make bacon, the loaf of bread on another part of the counter obviously meant for toast. A pair of mugs are already set out on the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish, Lance humming a song that she almost remembers what it might be. He turns and they share a smile, the thin teen already holding plates no doubt for their breakfast.

Ever the gentleman, it’s not long before he’s putting her plate together first, shooing her out to sit on the living room couch where he proclaims they’ll sit for a while to watch some shows until they’re done. Not about to argue with a lazy morning, Allura dutifully takes her cutlery and leaves, making her husband laugh when she sneaks in a kiss as well. They spend at least half a varga watching an ancient cartoon that’s managed to last the centuries, and several wars according to Lance. It seems archaic and clearly for children but Lance insists that its a classic that should be cherished, though he does offer to watch it again when he’s alone another time. Having Allura get used to so many things so fast was something they agreed would take far more than a day to do.

Perhaps the greatest fun was finally unwrapping the gifts, Lance again insisting that per tradition that they take turns. Anything they’d gotten which was labeled for both of them would be opened together, Allura finding that mimicking her husband’s enthusiastic abuse of the paper to be rather thrilling instead of just picking at the tape. Other than finally finding out what they’d been given, or had gifted each other, being able to sit together in spite of the huge mess felt very satisfying, the television still on and showing a rather realistic image of a burning log with soft music playing.

Inexplicably, it was during this lull that Allura’s eyes were drawn to their actual mantle and the lone wooden nutcracker standing there. “Lance?”

“Yes, my beauty?” the teen remarked in a quiet tone, a rare thing in his calm mood.

“You said the toy inspired a tale about it. What did it involve?” she asked, causing her companion to first glance at her just to follow her gaze up and to the side.

The faint frown he wore vanished at once, his expression fond when considering the small statue effectively watching them. “Oh, right.” Lance muttered, turning away to gaze at the wall pensively. As if he were trying to get all the pieces of the tale in mind before speaking. “It was some old fairy tale written forever ago, around the seventeenth century, I think. It was about a girl who got a nutcracker as a Christmas toy from her godfather just for her brother to break it with a nut that it couldn’t crack. The godfather promised to fix it before leaving but the girl wanted to keep hold of it when she went to sleep. Only when she goes back downstairs to get it, the clock strikes and suddenly she’s really small, just for mice to appear to get into a huge battle with an army of toy soldiers. Her nutcracker comes alive to lead the battle just to end up almost falling to the Rat King who’s appeared to fight him.”

Allura felt herself stiffen, her memory of the horrid beast she’d seen still vivid somehow, even if Lance failed to notice why she was suddenly unnerved. “Rat King?”

The brunet nodded grimly, sipping at the last of his coffee with his usual, confident smirk for some reason. As if the creature’s very existence was amusing. “Oh yeah, big baddie. This was written in a weird time, too. Obviously fiction and maybe from a dream the girl is having, I’ve no idea. Usually has seven heads or some crazy feature.”

She sat frozen for a half moment, trying to process all this. Surely it’s just a coincidence of some kind, the Altean thought to herself, forcing her voice to remain calm but interested lest her partner decided to stop talking. “What next?”

Her question reminds Lance either way, giving him cause to nod slightly. “Ah, right. The girl sees her nutcracker is in trouble and since she’s a child with no weapons, she throws her slipper at the Rat King, knocking him off balance. The nutcracker gets the upper hand and stabs him, the mice retreat with his body and the doll becomes a flesh and blood prince, saying her aid freed him of a curse that’d turned him into a nutcracker. He then takes her away to his kingdom where the citizens celebrate their victory, the return of their prince and how the girl helped them all. They hold this huge bash of music and dancing, all for the prince and the girl all night long. When the dances end, they eventually ride off in a sleigh. To get married? It’s been years since I ever saw the ballet. Very whimsical, so much color it’s almost maddening.”

Allura couldn’t help but stare for a moment, stunned. “It just ends?”

Next to her, Lance is snickering with lacking concern. “Trust me, the ballet was a much simpler adaptation from the books, which were way more complicated. The whole thing is designed to last under an hour and be very entertaining even if the people who saw the very first production probably didn’t get it.” At last he turns to her, smile gentle in his fondness to the point Allura feels her anxiety melt away in seconds. “It’s about love, war and overcoming the strange and what should be impossible. Just like us, actually.”

The comment once again took Allura by surprise, making her lean her head some to consider the strange doll standing almost dutifully across the room. Given what she already knew and had just been told, so much about the whole thing suddenly made sense. Sure, the tale and maybe even her dream weren’t real, but they held great nuances of what they’d survived, had worked hard for and won. Looking away to meet her husband’s deep blue eyes, the smile she wore for him was no less fond than his. “Let’s put him up every year. I believe it can be our little tradition as well.”

“Really?” Lance asked, his surprise understandable. When Allura nodded, the teen’s smirk widened as he suddenly put his mug down on their coffee table. “Well then, he’s on duty while we,” to her surprise, Lance was standing up and angling himself to lift her up before Allura could do a thing to stop him, leaving them face to face once in his arms. The grin he was wearing just so happened to be very telling. “Have some fun.”

She didn’t fight his grip but the whole thing still made her squeal along with the kisses he tried to lay on her neck when walking them out of the living room toward the stairs. “Lance!”

The sun-kissed boy just grinned, ignoring Allura’s loud cackling as he too began to laugh in his impish way, taking each step slowly as they both didn’t want to fall right back down again. They still laughed all they wanted, glad that they have the house to themselves. No one would’ve been able to stand all the noise they made otherwise.

\----

To that end, Allura never told Lance about her uncanny dream, even when years went by and he eventually showed her a taped copy of a recent show. She enjoyed it, much as she did the rest of Terran culture and its quirks, including putting up their wooden soldier on the mantle. Not once did she tell anyone that it looked a little bit too much like Lance or even how her husband might look wonderful in such a uniform.

From that night and onward to telling her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren among other youth in her now giant family the tale of the nutcracker, her smile when recounting it was light and fond. Even when describing the terrible battle supposedly fought in the middle of that ancient parlor floor, Allura’s kind tone never faltered even before the end, charming her audience with knowing the Prince and the girl would live long and happy. And for the years she had him, Lance would always be sitting nearby, smiling just as warmly before joining her in their bed like they did every night.

Maybe he suspected why she told the story, maybe he didn’t. Neither of them posed the question and did nothing to offer an answer. Lance did know that Allura loved the story and thus telling it to others, no matter how strange and outdated it was. But it was her favorite and the only one out of all the Christmas stories she truly cared for, no matter how strange. After all, it rang true about her and Lance’s life and their romance, as it was one of the few she last told anyone and the one she was thinking about in the end.

\----

**Author's Note:**

> A little special something for all my readers out there, no matter what anyone thinks of the final VLD season and its outcome. I enjoyed the show for all its quirks and faults, and I’ve got a few other things in the wings I’ll probably post an untold time after this post. This was as much for the rest of the fandom as it was for me, so please enjoy. It was a fun little bit to write.
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays 2018


End file.
